Page 10 of Bearly Bewitched

“We’ll see.” Kaine kept his tone neutral despite his inner bear’s immediate protective bristling. “First, dinner. Then ice cream. Then you can tell me more about these bitey bear-flies.”

“Proper magical science requires good fuel,” Daisy tried, deploying her best pleading expression. “And sprinkles.”

“One scoop with sprinkles,” Kaine reminded her, smiling. “That was our deal.”

She heaved a dramatic sigh worthy of a theatrical production. “Fine. But only because you’re the best.”

“Now you’re just trying to sweet-talk me into more ice cream.”

“Is it working?” Her eyes sparkled.

“Nice try, troublemaker.” Kaine tapped her nose. “But I believe we already negotiated terms.”

“Fine,” she conceded with another dramatic sigh. “But just remember—magical science is very important work.”

Kaine held her close, his bear rumbling contentedly despite the day’s worries about scholars and studies and supernatural integration. They’d figure it out. They’d keep her safe. And if anyone tried to treat his niece like a research subject...

Well. They’d learn why bears were apex predators.

“Time to wash up,” Margot called from the kitchen. “Dinner’s ready.”

Daisy slid off his lap, but paused. “Uncle Kaine? Do you think the new headmistress will like bear-flies?”

“I’m sure she’ll find them very interesting.”As long as they don’t try to eat anyone, he added silently.

“Romi says she’s pretty.” Daisy’s eyes shined. “And single.”

Kaine groaned. “Not you too, baby bear.”

Her giggles echoed through the cabin as she darted away to wash her hands. Kaine shook his head, but couldn’t help smiling. Between Romi’s matchmaking, Burke’s investigations, and Daisy’s “magical science,” life certainly wasn’t boring.

His bear huffed in agreement. But boring had never been their style anyway.

EIGHT

Vail sat in her great-aunts’ cozy kitchen, surrounded by the mingled aromas of herb-roasted chicken and freshly baked bread. Madame Zephyrine’s magical cooking timer chimed a cheerful tune as it danced across the counter, while Neve added a pinch of enchanted rosemary to the gravy—her secret ingredient that made everything taste like childhood memories.

“More wine, dear?” Madame Zephyrine lifted the bottle with a knowing smile. “You might need it when we start discussing eligible bachelors in Mystic Hollow.”

“Great-Aunt Zephyrine!” Vail groaned but pushed her glass forward anyway. “I’m focused on the academy right now. The last thing I need is another relationship weighing me down.”

“Weighing you down?” Neve’s silver brows drew together as she settled into her chair. “Is that how you view love?”

“No.” Vail swirled the ruby liquid in her glass, watching it catch the candlelight. “But that’s how it became with Ames. Six years of shrinking myself smaller and smaller until I barely recognized my own magic anymore.” Her fingers tightened around the stem. “Did you know he actually suggested I turndown the headmistress position? Said it would ‘interfere with our future plans.’”

“By which he meanthisplans,” Madame Zephyrine sniffed disapprovingly.

“Exactly.” Vail took a long sip of wine. “When I ended things, he couldn’t understand why. Kept saying we could work it out, that I was being hasty. As if I hadn’t spent years trying to fit myself into the box he built.”

“And how did he handle the actual breakup?” Neve asked quietly.

“Not well.” Vail’s laugh held no humor. “There were dramatic speeches about betrayal and wasted time. But here’s the thing—I didn’t care. That’s when I knew for sure I’d made the right choice. All those years, and I felt nothing watching him leave except relief.”

“Good for you.” Madame Zephyrine reached over to squeeze her hand. “Though speaking of handsome men who might appreciate a powerful witch, have you met Mystic Hollow’s remarkable bear-shifter craftsman? Kaine Urso has?—“

“No.” Vail pointed her fork at her aunt. “Absolutely not. No matchmaking. I need to focus on the academy, starting with tomorrow’s staff meeting.” She sighed, setting down her utensils. “Speaking of which, how should I handle Felicity? She’s been... difficult.”

“Ah, Felicity Hawthorne.” Neve’s expression grew thoughtful. “A talented witch, but one who lets bitterness cloud her judgment. She applied for the headmistress position three times over the years.”

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